Next to me
by kimmiesjoy
Summary: Possible post finale one shot.


with thanks to alwayscastle and by proxy (I believe) Jerryst316. with massive thanks to my pixie...who is keeping me sane (it's a hard job...she should get a payrise)

* * *

><p>When the end has come<p>

and buildings falling down fast,

When we spoilt the land and dried up all the sea,

When everyone has lost their heads around us,

You will find him, you'll find him next to me.

**EMELIE SANDE - NEXT TO ME.**

The precinct is in a mad panic, a hurried hustle and bustle that he follows with his eyes. Castle tracks the movement of the people he knows and has come to cherish, the people he tolerates and the people who hate him, all of them he observes in uncharacteristic silence as the dread takes hold with a tighter grip.

His eyes remain glued in morbid fascination.

It's distracting, painful and new.

It's not as if he hasn't ever seen it like this before, what with snipers, bombings and kidnappings, serial killers, conspiracies and every other insanity he has encountered since he started shadowing his Detective.

But this is different.

It's all perfectly controlled, this panic, finely tuned chaos that echoes from the halls of the building, it is tightly reigned in, fraught with something he can't place as they battle for one of their own.

The phones are ringing.

Every single phone on every single desk in the room.

The metallic ting of each phone is too much for his ears, each one holds his downfall or his salvation, too high pitched, too demanding, too powerful with the knowledge of what waits at the other end of the line.

The jingling chimes of anticipation go ignored by the majority of people, the cradles remaining untouched on the desks, something else for him to stare at in confusion, acknowledging the ache they create within him before he battles past it.

He cannot slay the pain within, but he can hide from it.

The voices that float around the room are loud, they have to be over the piercing tones of the still ringing phones.

They bark commands back and forth, they skirt her desk and they yell things at each other, using body language that roars 'back off'. They are intent on their task and oblivious as they move around the room. No time for even a casual and passing smile, focused and deliberate they stride forwards.

These fine people, these defenders of justice and the innocent, they are callous in the moment.

He forgives them, they don't get it like he does.

Her empty desk haunts him and as if fate understands the reverence of the moment all the phones silence as one.

He continues to stare at the space that she should occupy.

She should, but she doesn't.

Her chair is pushed to one side by a uniform, tall and unknowing as he moves with haste, a large stack of case reports, files, some meaningless paper work filling his hands and he rushes, his jerky stride causes his hip to bump her chair and send it reeling.

It squeaks briefly on wheels aged from use and the way she rocked in it when she was contemplating or confused.

It crashes into Castles, his chair at the side of her desk.

One topples the other and they both fall.

He watches.

Heads raise, a brief reprise from their thankless tasks as they allow their eyes roam the room, to find the cause of the crash. They spot the chairs, and then Castle himself.

A split second of silence.

A beat in time as looks are exchanged, shock and surprise, contempt, anger, pity, a cacophony of emotion in a heart beat.

Then the phones start again.

Ringing, all of them ringing.

Castle walks the length of the room, the distance left between him and her desk slips past quickly until he finds himself at the solid wood, his fingers run the edge, his eyes closing, pain gripping his chest.

He bends and picks up her chair, setting it back where it belongs, sliding it into place beneath the desk.

His own chair next, tilting into the space it has occupied for so long.

"You're here?" There is confusion in the words, but no hatred, from one source at least all he has to suffer through is pity.

He turns to the man by his side "Where else would I be?" he shrugs, resigned, pain flaring inside again.

"I thought with…earlier and… if it was me," Esposito shakes his head "I don't know that I could be here."

Castle offers him a weak, clearly fake, smile "I don't know that I could be anywhere else." The last word catches on its way past his lips and he breaks eye contact, clears his throat and looks away, down again at her chair.

He feels the other man tap his arm, a brief comfort, a shock in the unfamiliarity of the touch, before he smiles apologetically and moves to leave.

Castle stops him with a look, eyes betraying the soul broken beneath as he asks "Where is she?"

Esposito raises an arm, points to the other side of the room, Castles eyes following and he suddenly realises why he didn't spot her when he first entered the room…she looks so small.

Fragile.

Lost.

He's moving before he's even made the decision in his own brain, no conscious thought behind his need to comfort, to protect, to love, the look on her face drives him forward.

Kate stands, her arms hanging uselessly at her side, as she stares into the distance. She doesn't feel particularly real at this moment in time, but she knows she must be because her fingers are solid and gripping tight to the cotton beneath their tips.

Her eyes have lost focus again, they fade in and out and she knows she should try and bring them back again, but she has reached the point where she doesn't want to.

It's easier blurry.

The voices around her are disjointed, words are spoken but barely letters are breaking through, nothing is connecting inside her head and all the doors are closing around her, she's alone in the bubble of her own making, watching the nothingness of blurred movement.

The weight on her chest has been constricting all day

She knows when he arrives at her side, the pressure lessening just enough that she can breathe again, he bears some of the weight for her just by standing next to l her.

But she doesn't acknowledge it, she takes it in and ignores it all.

Blinking, just blinking.

It doesn't mean she cant feel it, that Kate doesn't appreciate it, crave it or pull it inside to keep herself sane, She uses his presence to find the strength she was missing, inflating her lungs with air, fully, for the first time all day.

Castle by her side takes it in for her and waits. His fingers loose on her forearm, talking to her in hushed whispers as he tries to explain his interpretation of what's happening around them.

Her bottom lip disappears inside her mouth, and for a seconds he thinks she's about to speak.

But the lip reappears, damp and forgotten as she exhales, and again she blinks.

Someone calls his name from across the other side of the room, he looks up and catches Espositos eye. He watches as the other man points and he again follows his line of sight, this time his eyes settle on the captain.

Gates is on the phone, answered at last, and talking rapidly, he watches her thump her desk, the pain rearing in his chest , but she turns, her face triumphant,

She catches the writers eye, a small smile and she nods.

Castle's eyes fly rapidly to Esposito, he caught the nod as well, and his head tilts back as he smiles before he moves forwards and his hand meets his partners in a loud resounding 'CLAP' of a high five.

Both men let out long heavy sighs and Ryan drops down into his chair, his head in his hands before he is pulling his phone from his pocket, calling his wife.

Castle turns then, watches Kate all the while as she stands blinking steadily, taking in nothing. She floats, or hovers, detached and apart

His fingers grip her arm tightly as he finally breaks the silence.

"They got him Beckett."

Her eyes are misted, buried in the wall opposite, her steady blinking allowing him to follow her gaze as she loses herself.

He squeezes again, pulling her into the here and now "Kate? We got him."

"What?" She turns at last, her eyes lidded and barely opening now, lashes low as she breathes heavily.

"We got him."

"What?" Kate looks up, hearing the words properly for the first time her eyes bright with moisture as she looks at him.

Castle closes his eyes against her pain, before he forces himself to face it "Kate…it's over we got him."

He watches the tears slip down her cheeks.

Her voice harsh with emotion, raw as she speaks, "Was it?"

Castle nods, "Ryan called me an hour ago, said they had confirmed it, suggested I stay away." …he looks at her, "but…I couldn't leave you here alone Kate. Not with…"

Somehow he finds his hands moving, up, until he holds her face, cradles it as the tears fall, his thumbs brushing them away as best he can.

He feels like he deserves them though, the flood of emotion that she has kept at bay for far too long, it's his punishment.

"I'm sorry Castle…."

"Kate don't." He begs, "please don't apologise to me, not for him."

"Rick," she stares him down. "I'm sorry." She means it, he can see, and the depth of feeling he has for her roars loud within him. Her selflessness at this time more powerful and love affirming than at any other moment. "He was your…"

"She was your mother Kate," Castle interrupts before she can name the man and connect them in anyway. "I know how much you love her." His thumbs sweeping softly all the while. "I know how hard you fought, all that you have done, all you have overcome to get here. So don't offer me sympathy, please don't…"

He closes his eyes trying to find the words but she steals them before he has a chance, her hands moving to grab his jacket and pull him forwards.

He shakes his head, but she ignores him, talks over his silent denial, casting it aside. Kate reaches for his face, not willing to watch as he tortures himself, her hands gentle as they calm him, skimming his cheeks until he stops moving and her unhurried reassuring touch forces Castle eyes open, her voice strong and soft, brimming with unsaid words the way her eyes sparkle with still unshed tears, "I am so sorry."

"Me too." He murmurs, his forehead dropping until it rests against hers, watching her blink once, twice, before her eyes close. No longer at war, no more lines to be drawn in the sand as they stand on opposite sides staring each other down. They are united now, maybe not totally unscathed, in fact the bruises they have inflicted on each other in the process will take years to fade, but it's _enough_ when they cling to each other, grieving and at peace all at once, in the jubilant precinct.


End file.
